


Slip

by nouveaux_jours



Series: tumblr fics [5]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: Ice, M/M, Overprotective Sherlock, Sword Cane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 18:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5938765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nouveaux_jours/pseuds/nouveaux_jours
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock saw the patch of ice and cautiously overstepped it. It wasn’t large, or obviously discolored, but it didn’t occur to him that it wasn’t noticeable.</p><p>Until he heard John’s startled “whoop!” just behind him, followed by unpleasantly loud thump.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slip

**Author's Note:**

> My fave [michtpollard](http://michtpollard.tumblr.com) wanted Sherlock fussing over a dubious Watson early in their relationship, and this is what happened.

Sherlock saw the patch of ice and cautiously overstepped it. It wasn’t large, or obviously discolored, but it didn’t occur to him that it wasn’t _noticeable_.

Until he heard John’s startled “whoop!” just behind him, followed by unpleasantly loud thump.

“No trouble, no trouble,” John said, impressively poker faced. However, Sherlock immediately noted the slight bulge in his eyes, the tension in his cheeks, and the flush of color in his neck, all tells that he was in severe pain. Watson’s right leg always troubled him at the first frost– no doubt its stiffness was responsible for his failure to catch himself. Judging from the tension in the leg, still pressed against the pavement, bending at the knee enough to right himself would be agony.

Sherlock didn’t let John make a brave show of it. He got an arm under John’s shoulders and hoisted him up before he could protest any further. “These streets are treacherous for an old man this time of year,” he said cheekily. “Maybe we should get you a cane.”

“I can walk myself,” John snapped, pushing Sherlock away.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Sherlock grabbed his hand and pulled him close again. “Put your arm over my shoulder. Like we’re brothers. If you slip and I have to see you make that face again, I’ll vomit.”

John shook his hand off, but his scowl softened as he did so. He knew that he could not conceal the inevitable wobble in his walk from Sherlock. He knew that Sherlock saw the patch of ice that he had missed. And Sherlock was still holding out a hand to him, waiting for his choice to go on.

John hooked his arm around Sherlock’s elbow, and they carried on quite naturally. Sherlock smiled.

“I’m serious about the cane. Oh, stop,” he said to John’s withering look. “They’re the height of fashion and you know it.”

“Fashion? You wear a hunting cap to go to the grocer’s,” John said. 

“Because it’s practical,” Sherlock retorted. “And so is a cane. Fashion is disguise, my dear Watson, and it happens that I know a man who makes especially fashionable canes. Just the thing for a military man.”


End file.
